He wheeled away and began walking back toward the encampment, the heat of his anger rising off him like steam. He glanced at the darkening sky and felt a measure of relief. At least this day was almost over. Perhaps tomorrow would prove more favorable.

“One thing more,” he said when Stoon was back beside him again. “When you do find a way in, I want you to be one of the first to enter.” He gave the other a sharp glance and caught the small nod of agreement that served as a reply. “Not to put you in danger,” he added. “But for something else entirely.”

“Which would be?” The assassin sounded genuinely interested.

“I want you to take that Elessedil girl alive. After I have personally removed her tongue and cut off her hands, I intend to give her to the soldiers.”

He strode on in silence, the image of it burning with bright promise in his mind.

When the attack ended and the Federation withdrew, Aphenglow left the ramparts and went down to find Arling to make certain she was all right. Cymrian trailed after her, and she let him come without comment. She ignored Bombax.

After reuniting with her sister and giving her a hug and a few words of reassurance, she left her with Cymrian and went off to find the rail sling that had been used to attack the Arishaig. She found it easily enough, but there was no sign of who had used it. More telling was her examination of the angle available for attack using that particular weapon. Even under the best of circumstances, the rail sling couldn’t have done much more than dent the iron-plated underside of a Federation warship.

The ramifications of that conclusion were disturbing.

She decided to talk to Woostra. She had questions about the magic warding the Keep, and with the Ard Rhys absent she believed her best chance at getting answers was from Khyber Elessedil’s personal secretary.

She found him where she expected, ensconced in his office outside the Druid Library. His scarecrow body was hunched over his desk, eyes scanning the pages of a clutch of books and papers spread out before him. He didn’t even look up when she entered, merely gesturing to a bench to one side.

“Sit, Aphenglow. I’ll be done in a moment.”

She lowered herself onto the bench and waited patiently for the several minutes it took him to complete whatever it was he was doing. When he finally looked up, she said, “How do you do that?”

He looked puzzled. “Do what?”

“Recognize me without looking.”

“Oh, that.” He gave her a small smile. “Your footsteps. I can recognize any of you just from hearing you approach. Assuming I am paying any sort of attention.”

She smiled back. “Really?”

He shrugged. “What can I help you with? Something to do with that Federation attack?”

“You know about it?”

“Hard not to with all the noise.”